Jockey bait
by footshooter
Summary: Where ever Ellis goes, manic laughter follows. Crackfic based on the fact that whenever I play L4D2, I always play as Ellis, and Ellis ALWAYS gets humped. T 4 swearz.


Ellis was singing again. In the annoying, persistent, barely in tune way he had. Nick scowled, he knew there was no point in even _trying_ to make the kid shut up. Shit, Ellis didn't even need the others protection from the zombies he was attracting.

He was trying to place the song. It was annoying, upbeat and sunny, exactly like Ellis himself. Nick was convinced it was from a cartoon film. Something with animals. _The Lion King_.

The song sung by the warthog and the meerkat.

"_Hakuna Matataaa_."

Ellis shot a zombie with his shotgun, letting it get close enough for him to see it snarling at him before he blew up its head. He laughed.

"_What a wonderful phrase!"_

Bang. He shot another, again chuckling.

"_Hakuna Matataaa, ain't no passin' craze!"_

Nick was starting to wonder whether the kid had truly lost it.

"_It means no worries, for the rest o'your dayyss! It's our problem free, philosp-_AGH!"

Nick frowned, before glancing up at Ellis and raising his gun. It was his turn to laugh.

"See, man. _This_ is why I tell you to keep quiet."

"Nick, get this fuckin' thing off me right now brother!"

Ellis was being steered towards the crying they were trying to avoid, so Nick stopped laughing for long enough to blow the back of the Jockey's head off with his rifle, pointing it sideways so he didn't catch Ellis in the process.

"Thanks man."

Nick started laughing again, "_It's our problem free, philosophy, Hakuna Matata._"

"Shut up, man," Ellis said, but he grinned nonetheless.

…

"Spitter," Coach said, and Rochelle nodded.

"Sounds straight ahead."  
>"Doesn't matter where it is. They move quick."<p>

The guttural spitting noises were joined by an insane laughter. Nick knew it wasn't funny, but his mouth twitched upwards at the memory of Ellis getting flustered the last time before composing himself.

"I hear one o'them little back-humpin' things. Man, I hate those creepy little shits."

"Ellis, honey, can you shush a minute?" Rochelle asked, knowing that a rant was coming otherwise.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

The Spitter wandered out of a shop door dead ahead of them and stopped, her face turning to look at them. Before any of them could shoot, she'd tipped her head back and fired a glob of green acid at them. Coach fired before jumping back to avoid the acid. The Spitter went down.

"Nice shot," Nick said, patting Coach on the back as they backed into an alley.

A shriek of joy came from behind of them, followed by Ellis's yell. Manic cackling followed, mingling with Ellis's shouts of "Get the fuck _off me_ you ugly little bastard," as he spun around in circles, trying to dislodge the Jockey forcing him towards the spitting green acid.

Rochelle caught up and elbowed it off, where it hit the floor and started to paw at Ellis's leg like it wanted to climb up. Ellis aimed a kick at it's head, drawing his Magnum and shooting it between the eyes.

"Creepy little son of a bitch."

Nick couldn't help himself, and started laughing again. Ellis narrowed his eyes, and Rochelle glared over her shoulder at him.

"You alright, honey?"

"Yeah, m'alright," Ellis mumbled, clearly embarrassed. "C'mon, let's get outta here."

…

They had nearly made it to the safe-room, they could _see_ the door. Everyone was relieved, and spirits were elevated in a way that can only be seen once you've fought your way through hordes and Tanks and Witches and fuck knows what else. It'd been a bad day for them all, and they were looking forward to just sitting.

Then the laughter came.

Nick saw the hatred flicker across Ellis's face as he gripped his axe, his ammo having ran out a few blocks before. He muttered something, but Nick missed it, the Jockey seemingly falling from the sky and landing right in front of them with a cackle. Nick was closer, but it made a beeline for Ellis.

"Yeah, c'mon then y'fuckin' peverted bastard!"

Nick rolled his eyes, already seeing where this was going, and raised the crowbar he'd picked up a few streets before. Sure enough, the Jockey dodged Ellis's swing by millimetres and, before Ellis had time to recover, leapt into the air and on to Ellis's back, starting to bounce up and down excitedly, gyrating its hips and digging into Ellis's sides.

It had barely begun steering Ellis into god knows what before Nick clonked it over the head with the metal in his hand, the noise making a dull thud as it dropped to the ground, stunned. Ellis turned in temper and hacked its head off.

"I _really_hate those things, man!"

Nick snorted, "Three in a day. That's some going."

Ellis scowled and kicked the body, separating the head from the neck and rolling it away, coating its path with sticky blood.

"Fuckin' tell me about it."

"What the hell are you two doing messing around out there?" Rochelle shouted from the safe room door. Ellis grimaced, and Nick clapped him on the back.

"C'mon, champ. Let's get that Jockey-bait ass of yours indoors."

"Fuck you man. _Fuck you_."

…

All seemed calm when they woke up. They could almost pretend that life was normal. Almost.

Ellis had cheered up considerably, and was wandering around the kitchen area making bitter coffee and pulling out boxes of cereal.

They were on the road again half an hour later, glad for the night of decent rest.

Ellis was happily taking out infected while the others woke up. He didn't have a middle ground. He was awake or asleep. And once he was awake, he was full of positive energy and raring to go.

"Hunter!" he cried, and they backed into a defensive position. The Hunter showed itself with a leap and a wail just as a Jockey managed to attach itself to Ellis's back.

He was beginning to tire of all this damned _laughing_.

He managed, somehow to dislodge it before the guys had noticed it was there, and once the Hunter was lying in a heap they turned to see Ellis leaping around in a strange sort of dance with the little, weirdly shaped bald thing cackling madly. Ellis finally loaded a shell into his gun, kicking at the Jockey, and blew it clean apart with a short range shot from a shotgun.

"What the -? Am I fuckin' catnip t'these things or somethin'?"

Nick started to laugh again.


End file.
